Why Not?
by CantStopWontStop
Summary: After their encounter during "Wildlife", Olivia can't shake the scene from her mind. When Elliot returns to the precinct from a week off, they have some things to talk about. One-Shot. EO. May be turned into a full story... ;


**Author's Note:** I wasn't planning on writing anything for a little while, but my AP English assignment is driving me crazy and I need to write something that I actually enjoy. An analysis of "Canticle For Leibowitz" doesn't exactly fit that form. So, here we are.

Another one-shot. But it's kind've long.

Post-"Wildlife." Contains spoilers, but I'm assuming you all have seen it. If not, you're really missing out. Also contains a reference to "Fault."

**Note:** The final scene of "Wildlife" never happened. Kathy took Eli and left. The bitch is out of the picture. ;)

**Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine. If it were, the FCC would be after my ass for all of the steamy Benson/Stabler hook-ups you'd see. Oh, and just so you know, I tend to make a lot of pop culture references and allusions in my stories. I own none of those either.

* * *

A morning glow dispersed through Manhattan's 16th precinct. Olivia Benson sat at her desk, where a stack of papers remained untouched. She'd been through hell the past week, but even her week didn't match the week her partner had. Olivia briefly closed her eyes and drew a deep breath as she thought about the events that had taken place over the last few days. It had been a mess of emotions and stress. In retrospect, it had been a complete mess altogether. Olivia opened her eyes again, forcing her thoughts away. She didn't want to remember. It wasn't right to.

"Good morning, Olivia."

Olivia glanced up and offered a nod to John Munch who had arrived five minutes late, as usual. "Morning, John," she replied. "Your coffee's on your desk."

"You're a saint," Munch said, expressing his gratitude as he sat down. "So, have we got anything today?"

"Not yet," Olivia replied. "Just a pile of paperwork." She jerked her head toward Elliot's desk. "And I'll probably have to do his too."

"Nah, that won't be necessary."

Olivia jerked around in time to see Elliot seating himself at his desk. "Welcome back," she said, one of her eyebrows raised slightly. "But you were supposed to take a full two weeks off. You already ignored Captain's orders when you went after Bushido."

"I'm fine," Elliot insisted, before reaching over to steal Olivia's coffee cup. "I was going crazy anyway. You know what I did yesterday?" He took a sip of coffee as Olivia replied with an interested shrug. "I went to a movie. For the first time in about six years."

"By yourself?" Olivia asked. "By the way, you owe me a cup of coffee."

"No, with Tyra Banks," Elliot replied sarcastically. "Of course by myself."

"Well, what'd you see?"

"Quantum of Solace," Elliot replied.

"Not a bad choice," Olivia said. "But I'm not sure a movie like that is a good influence for you. Next thing we know, you're going to be driving off cliffs and strapping explosives to pedophiles." Elliot responded with a narrowing of the eyes and a smirk and the two partners soon turned their attention to their stacks of paperwork.

Olivia stared at the files in front of her, but saw nothing. Her thoughts wandered and her focus waivered. She was relieved Elliot was back. The precinct was a bit dull without someone to banter and converse with. Fin was wrapped up in a case involving narcotics, and Munch was working a cold case. Olivia needed someone to share her thoughts with, but Elliot had returned too early. She hadn't found time to seriously dwell on the events of the past week. She needed to assess them and decipher their significance.

**Flashback:**

A flash of time was all she had. She had nowhere to go, and even if she had, she couldn't leave him. She heard the voices drawing nearer, but only one option remained clear. Quickly, she shed her shirt and jeans, kicking them into a pile of the cool bathroom floor. She took a deep breath and flushed the toilet. There was no turning back.

She heard a thud, the sound of a person falling, and swung the bathroom door open. The words she spoke poured from her lips before she could stop them. The room was hot, despite the chilly November weather. Scantily clad, she sold herself to her audience, literally and figuratively. Her arms were around him and she leaned in close. All eyes were on her as Elliot slipped his arms around her waist. She rested her head on his shoulder and could smell a hint of his aftershave.

"Why so tense?" There was justice behind her question. It could have been staged or it could have been reasoned. There was no doubt that Elliot was tense. He knew they could be facing their deaths within a matter of minutes, even seconds. He handed Olivia a shirt and objected her faux offerings.

"Liv. Liv?"

Olivia jerked out of her thoughts and looked up at Elliot, who was staring at her. "Sorry," she apologized.

"You okay?" he asked. Olivia nodded and pushed some hair out of her face.

"Yeah, just tired," she replied. It was the half-truth. She hadn't had much sleep.

"Tired, huh?" Elliot said. "Liv, you looked like you were about to start talking to yourself, you were so deep in thought."

"I've just got a lot on my mind," Olivia said.

"Well do you want to get it off your mind?" Elliot asked.

Olivia shook her head. Sure, she did. Of course she wanted to get it off her mind. But not to him. "I'm fine," she insisted.

Elliot wasn't fooled. The next thing Olivia knew, he was standing. "Come on," he said, jerking his head toward the steps that led to the locker room. Olivia obliged, but as she found her feet carrying her up the steps toward the dark green door, she began to scold herself.

This wasn't the first time they had used the locker room as a psychiatrist's office for each other. There had been other instances where they had taken time here to share their thoughts with each other. But this time was different. The things she had to share weren't justifiable.

Elliot reached the door first, swinging it open to hold for Olivia. She passed him, carefully keeping her gaze forward as she seated herself on one of the narrow wooden benches. Elliot didn't sit. Instead, he stood, leaning his back against the lockers, facing her. In a strange sense, Olivia felt almost as if she were in trouble. Her mind flashed back to the time she got in trouble in middle school for shoving and punching a boy who was taunting her. She had sat at the principal's desk as he leaned against the wall of his office, scolding her.

"What's going on?" Elliot inquired.

"A lot of things," Olivia admitted.

"Well, pick one and start," Elliot suggested.

"El, I don't need to do this," Olivia suddenly insisted, making a movement to stand. Elliot gently placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her back to her seat on the bench. He sat down next to her, leaning forward slightly.

"Well, you may not, but I do." Olivia turned to look at him, but the floor held the attention of his eyes. It took him a moment to find the words. "Liv, Kathy left me." Olivia opened her mouth to offer instant phrases of condolence, but none came. Instead, Elliot continued. "You were right," he said. "I would have been better off staying in that house with Bushido than going home."

"El," Olivia started. "I'm so sorry." Elliot nodded and didn't reply. "El, you can work it out. You know you can. You hit a wall before and you made it. You can do it again."

Elliot shook his head. "No, we can't. Liv, there's nothing left to fix. It's not the same. It hasn't been and it never will. Everything about it's gone. The comfort, the care, the love… It's gone." Olivia nodded, unsure of how to reply. Once again, Elliot pressed on. "And the funny party is, Liv, I'm not as upset as I should be. I mean, my marriage fell apart and my kids are gone, but I'm almost okay with it. I can accept it."

"Well that's good, El," Olivia offered. She kept her voice soft and soothing.

"Is it?" Elliot turned to face her. "Why don't I feel guilty? I don't love my wife anymore and I've bailed on my kids. Why don't I feel bad?"

"On the contrary, El, I think you do feel bad," Olivia said. "Because if you didn't, you wouldn't be so torn up about it now. Just because you accept it doesn't mean you don't care. And your kids will understand. They may be angry at first, but you're their father. They're always going to love you. They just need time to heal."

Elliot sighed. "I saw this coming," he said. "But I did nothing to stop it." His head rose slightly and his gaze became fixed on the lockers in front of him. "Liv, I didn't want to. I wanted out."

"And how do you feel now?" Olivia asked. A silence fell among them as she awaited his answer. She watched him carefully as he dwelled on a reply.

"Relieved."

Olivia was at a loss for words. She felt conflicted. She knew the Stabler's marriage had been on the rocks for quite some time, but for Elliot's sake, she'd tried to help them keep it together. Just last week she was at their house, when Elliot was undercover, trying to convince Kathy to stay. Still, she wanted to support Elliot and his current decisions.

"Elliot, it's okay to feel that way," she said. "You aren't obligated to feel bad."

"But I'm obligated to my kids, Liv," Elliot said. "I've let them down."

"El, you can't fix what was born to break. Maybe you and Kathy just weren't supposed to stay together. Maybe there's a reason for this."

Elliot nodded, consuming her words. Another silence drifted over the locker room as they sat, consumed in their own thoughts. "What are you thinking about?"

Olivia tilted her head toward Elliot, slightly taken aback. "Nothing," she replied.

"Dammit, Liv, just tell me."

"I've just been thinking about this past week is all," Olivia finally admitted.

"There's a lot of think about," Elliot mumbled.

"I know. I didn't go through half the shit you did, El, but I can't seem to sort it all out."

"A lot's happened," Elliot noted.

"Elliot, you almost died," Olivia suddenly blurted out. Elliot's signature expression of indifference became present.

"Liv, I'm fine. I wasn't anywhere near dying."

Olivia rolled her eyes at Elliot's usual apathy toward himself. "El, you were shot. You were shot and it was all my fault."

Yet again, another silence arose. The heaviness of the air hovered around them, threatening to suffocate them if one didn't speak. "Is that what this is about?" Elliot finally asked. "You think it was your fault?"

"Well, if I hadn't been so stupid and tried to pull off that act-"

"Then we both would've been shot," Elliot interjected. "Liv, what you did was brilliant. It saved you and bought me some time."

"A lot of good that did," Olivia mumbled. "He still shot you."

"Yeah, but he didn't shoot you."

"That doesn't matter. If I hadn't done that, if I had just gone outside, I could've followed you closer. I could've protected you."

"Liv, nothing could've protected me. Hell, I thought I was safe. I climbed out of the car and the next thing I know, I've got two bullets in me. It was _not_ your fault and you could _not _have prevented it." There was a certainty, a sternness in Elliot's voice that kept Olivia from pressing the issue any further.

"Elliot, I don't want you to die," Olivia quietly admitted.

"Well, I don't want me to die either, Liv," Elliot said, unsure of how to respond. His attempt at informality failed miserably.

"El, I was just so scared," Olivia said, her voice nearly a whisper. "I didn't want our last moments together to be held at gunpoint, half-naked."

"Ah, the half-naked part wouldn't be so bad as a last dying memory," Elliot said. Olivia gave him a look that told him this was the wrong moment for jokes. "Liv, if you think that I think less of you because of what happened, I don't. So there's no need for you to dwell on it."

"That's not why I keep thinking about it," Olivia said.

"Is it because you saw those Vogue magazines on the dresser? Because, Liv, those weren't mine, they were there when we rented the house for the mission. I don't know wh-"

"El, seriously."

Elliot sighed and his eyes met the floor again. "I think about it too, Liv."

Olivia turned, facing him completely this time. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, 'what do I mean'?" Elliot asked. "I can't stop thinking about that night."

"We are talking about the same night, right? With Bushido and the house and me parading around as a hooker?"

"Of course," Elliot replied. "Liv, do you really think I don't replay that scene over in my mind all the time?"

They were toeing the line. The forbidden door that had closed them off from the issue was unlocked. They were turning the doorknob.

"Liv, I don't think we need to discuss where you and I both stand on this," Elliot said. "But we need to address it if we want to get over this. I don't think I can replay that scene in my head much longer. It drives me nuts, the way it ended."

"You mean you didn't want it to end?" Olivia's question was simple, but Elliot's answer was beyond complicated.

"I wanted us to be safe," he said. "First and foremost, I want us both to get out of there unharmed. I wanted Bushido and that other guy to just go. I wanted you."

They shattered the world record of awkward silence. This was the last thing Olivia had expected when she'd entered that green door.

"Say something," Elliot whispered. Olivia shook her head, unable to find any words. "Liv, you and I know we're pushing the limits here," Elliot said. "But we've got to address them. Ignoring it all will just make it worse."

"Elliot, what am I supposed to say?" Olivia demanded. "That it's okay? That I don't care? That we should just forget about it all and be best friends?"

"I don't know," Elliot mumbled. He had no energy to fight with her. He didn't want to. "Liv, where do you stand?"

"Elliot, you know where I stand on this."

"But _do_ you? Do you really? Can you really sit there and tell me that you felt nothing that night, when you just told me you can't stop thinking about it?" Elliot's voice had risen and he clenched his jaw to obstruct anymore harsh words from coming out.

"Of course I did." Olivia was exasperated. "We've avoided this subject for ten years Elliot, but you and I both know it's always been there."

She was right. The hallway leading toward the door that contained their innermost desires had always been averted. If they came near it, they'd always taken a different route.

"Well now that we're clear, what are we going to do about it?" Elliot asked. He turned his body toward her, facing her, watching her as she fought with herself for answers.

"We can't do anything, El," she said.

"Why not?"

Why not? It was a simple question, with a plethora of answers.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Elliot asked.

"A lot of things!" Olivia exclaimed. "We've been there before. We can't put each other before the job."

"Liv, you and I both know that I'm always going to pick you. I don't care what the circumstances are, I'm _going_ to pick you."

"Then we can't be partners anymore."

The same words he had said to her a few years ago.

"Liv, don't go there," he said quietly.

"I have to, El. What other option is there?"

"We can face the problem when we get there," Elliot said. "Maybe we'll never have to choose."

"We can't live off of a maybe, Elliot."

"Don't you do it everyday?" Elliot asked. "Do you realize that everyday, you come to work with the possibility of your life ending?" Olivia didn't have an objective answer. "Don't you think you deserve a little freedom too? Liv, I took this job because I wanted to bring justice to people. But I'm entitled to some myself."

Her silence told him that he was right. For the first time since they'd entered the room, they locked eyes. "So what do you want to do about it?" he asked.

"What _can_ we do? I mean, where do we go from here?"

"We don't need a roadmap," Elliot said. "Just tell me you don't object."

And finally, a small smile formed across Olivia's lips. "We're not in court, El." Elliot's reply was a smile as he reached to put his arms around her. Their hug was warm, friendly, but it held the possibility of more. "And no, I don't object."

As they released each other, Elliot stood and held out his hand. Olivia accepted it and he helped her to her feet.

"Wait," she said as they started toward the door. Elliot stopped to turn and face her. "If those weren't your Vogue magazines, whose were they?"

Elliot shook his head, giving her a playful push toward the door. She opened it, but as she did so, he grabbed it, keeping her from passing through. "Wait," he said. Her eyes held curiosity as his hand found her cheek, the other finding her waist. His lips didn't need guiding at all, and he pressed them against hers. When it was over, their eyes fell open in sync, and Elliot followed his actions by opening the door all the way. "All right, now go."

Olivia shook her head at him, her lips parting in a tiny grin. She started down the steps, Elliot following close behind her. "Wait." She stopped too abruptly, causing Elliot to walk right into her, nearly knocking her down the stairs.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You still owe me a cup of coffee."

**Author's Note:** I know it was anti-climatic, but I felt it needed to be written. That's the way I've always seen them getting together. Sure, I'd prefer a hot, steamy hook-up in the cribs, but to me, it seems more likely they'd try to be reasonable and sensible about it. Anyway, I may consider writing an actual full-length story. That is, if you review. ;)


End file.
